1xZillion

#FrancLee #ModSloot #demo2013 #ModSlootRecords #song #single ...

Tue, 21 May 2013 20:50:30 -0400

#FrancLee #ModSloot #demo2013 #ModSlootRecords #song #single (at LOS ANGELES)

FRANCLEE.COM

Tue, 21 May 2013 00:30:56 -0400

FRANCLEE.COM

Audio

Mon, 20 May 2013 03:58:41 -0400

#breakupwithhimforme #ModSlootRecords #FrancLee #demo2013...

Fri, 17 May 2013 17:47:27 -0400

#breakupwithhimforme #ModSlootRecords #FrancLee #demo2013 #ModSloot #SINGLE #studio #music #song

Photo

Fri, 17 May 2013 17:35:54 -0400

venus transit 2012. still haven’t forgotten—

Tue, 14 May 2013 21:30:00 -0400

venus transit 2012.

still haven’t forgotten—

#FrancLee #demo2013 #music #soon #mixtape

Fri, 10 May 2013 21:29:00 -0400

#FrancLee #demo2013 #music #soon #mixtape

meow, now

Sun, 28 Apr 2013 14:12:00 -0400

Given the existence as uttered forth in the public works of Starhawk and Babylon and Camus quaquaqua I’m a Taurus, whose brute number is 2 and “don’t be a pussy” quaqua qua blah blah blah time is my coldest friend and ducks, for example, will never be academics even given a million years though (un)conceivably they might, our frame está jodido.

meow meow meow patos y gatos eee—ow—meow, now i know we’ve won the war the 2nd second qua frontal lobe blah indeed why a war or this literature right here.

right now o the creation of Our existence from but for me the o more a meow but the o near the butt qua never will we feel freedom from fear, real freedom from fear, as long as we should be ejected from the meow, now, thank you, have a good evening, ladies.

the night sky screams my name for a million years past, as the stars cry light in the anguish of being, and, and the sky—still—the sky.

And if it’s Blue, it’s blue.

self-destruction is inevitable, a la time; who were to play...

Fri, 19 Apr 2013 03:31:55 -0400

self-destruction is inevitable, a la time; who were to play instigator—would that one’s self may. #FRANCLEE #MODSLOOT #advancedliterature #smoke #cigarette #foxes #death #picoftheday #eyes

THE YouTube channel to watch in 2013. #BlueDaze #FrancLee...

Tue, 02 Apr 2013 11:27:06 -0400

THE YouTube channel to watch in 2013. #BlueDaze #FrancLee #ModSloot @jahovah2020 @joshuatree7

#FrancLee #copyright2013

Thu, 21 Mar 2013 21:13:40 -0400

My book of poetry, which hopefully will be demoed online within...

Tue, 19 Mar 2013 02:13:03 -0400

My book of poetry, which hopefully will be demoed online within the year. #AndifitsBlueitsblue #FrancLee #ModSloot #Literature

Daybreak

Tue, 19 Mar 2013 00:32:14 -0400

Donna was a pastor’s daughter. She was a female professional most well qualified at micro-manipulating the smaller personalities in her law firm’s Human Resources department: a petty woman. Donna’s biological father, Father Orsino, had already began to go to Lucifer in seminary, and had met her mother Rosa during a confession which regarded Rosa’s affair with a married Huntington Beach politician. Father Orsino must have thought much of himself to have had a politician’s mistress, but that emotional subtlety only lasted so long; the pastor more or less blackmailed Rosa into a sexual relationship that lasted only 6 weeks before she came down with pregnancy. Though abortion was out of the question, word never got out, and the transgression never even saw a glimpse of the rumor mill: the inevitable punishment for Father Orsino came only in the form of a stern removal from his parish, as mandated by the illustrious yet popular papal administration of his era.

Donna was raised as if she were an orphan, but every now and then, Rosa would transfer the young latchkey Donna from their broken, single-parent home to Donna’s grandmother’s in Santa Monica, where, finally staying put at the age of 16, Donna learned about the ease of prep-school, West L.A. Judaism, and burying one’s self with sand on the sunny deck of the Santa Monica Jonathon Club, as well as the nuances of Jennifer O’Neill-sponsored cosmetics, backless coated cotton twill DKNY cocktail dresses, and covering one’s breath up after a night of drinking and smoking Nat Sherman’s with the “cute boys”—bright-eyed, boisterous teenagers of brand-name skinny denim, well-earned disrepute, and envied age. When 26, Donna married one such individual, a Mr. Karan, who annually earned a conspicuous six-digits as a partner in the heirloom law firm. After a brief honeymoon, Donna officially moved into his hideous light-ochre house on Walden Avenue. He died within 6 years, from a stripper-fueled cocaine overdose. Their daughter Rosy was only six at the time.

Rosy just barely qualified for attendance at Beverly Hills High School, as the city’s zip-code policy proved fickle, but Donna saw to it that Rosy should at least school with the most popular air-heads in Los Angeles. Rosy’s year saw “crazy exotic girls” emerge as the most attractive females in the class. “Young-hee spent a year in Seoul after rehab,” and “Isn’t Charlie dating a coke dealer?” and “I’m pretty sure Maria slept with Drake,” were the mottos of the year. Unfortunately for Rosy, blonde and cute was out. Like her mother, Rosy was very Los Angeles, and found herself unable to keep up with the other girls in Beverly. If Young-hee was graceful, Charlie, dreamy, and Maria, gorgeous, then Rosy was petty. When she saw brunette, Spanish-European Charlie talking to blonde blonde Rosy on BHHS’ lawn after school, Donna would say to herself, “I don’t know, they’re too young to have nationality, really”—but she knew Rosy could only hope to be a certain American brand of delicate. Rosy would still party with Charlie and Maria, though Young-hee wasn’t so convinced, and one could see her at the Hilton, singing along with the DJ’s blaring speakers:

I kissed a girl

and I liked it

Rosy was an emaciated girl of sixteen; she had long blonde hair and a clever painted mouth. She looked like Donna when Donna was younger, and Donna knew Rosy was sexier. Rosy wouldn’t need a job, but Donna suggested she should look for one every now and then. Rosy would only pout then laugh.

It was a dark Sunday evening of late winter, promising fatigue, but with a fresh breeze blowing. All the windows of the Charlie’s house were open, and the navy curtains folded in on themselves in the moderate chill of California winter. Maria’s iPod sent out hypnotic pulses and forlorn voices, Alesso’s polyphonic synthesizer fluency communicated through pink plastic 3-inch computer speakers. Andy brought drinks, and within a few hours, Rosy went to the hospital to get her stomach pumped—she hadn’t eaten all day.

A tall, muscular paramedic carted Rosy in to the emergency room, and her breathing waned shallow. Andy followed close behind, mouth open in panic. Donna came within the hour. Donna and Andy waited in the waiting room, not exchanging any words.

With his long, smooth legs resting against the waiting bench, Andy sensed a buzz, or a bump, or a pulse, like a broken heartbeat, or a silent Dyson. His eyes remained closed. Donna spoke up, “Are you wasted? You should go to sleep.”
He slowly lifted his head up and let his eyelids crack open—he swiveled his head right. “Can you stop tapping your leg?” Donna stops.
“Thanks,” Andy manages to croak.
He wasn’t sure if he had said that out of apology or gratitude.

While Andy slept on the bench, Donna made it into Rosy’s room with a few curt words to the nurse attending. Donna understood, if she didn’t connect with Rosy now, she might lose her daughter forever. She made it to the cot, looking down upon her daughter. “You’re out of Beverly, I’m taking you to Huntington Beach,” she said to the crying blonde.

Rosy looked up, stared into her mother’s eyes, and wasn’t sure if she was in remorse or relief.

my creative energy just looked up

Sun, 03 Mar 2013 14:03:52 -0500

my creative energy just looked up

add me on Snapchat (franclee) and get stupid pics/vids like...

Mon, 25 Feb 2013 01:31:08 -0500

add me on Snapchat (franclee) and get stupid pics/vids like this. Comment with your Snapchat handles, and yes, I know, this app is an oldy (but a goody doeeee) #ADHD #FRANCLEE

The ‘less than 3’ tips of the evening. #life...

Mon, 25 Feb 2013 01:31:02 -0500

The ‘less than 3’ tips of the evening. #life #secrets #picoftheday #wine #picofthenight #world #piano #music #art #ModSloot #FRANCLEE

Cop my book of prose and poetry “And if it’s Blue,...

Mon, 25 Feb 2013 01:30:53 -0500

Cop my book of prose and poetry “And if it’s Blue, it’s blue.” when I publish that mofo #FrancLee

#ModSloot #FrancLee #LongLiveFrancLee #ASAP

Mon, 25 Feb 2013 01:30:47 -0500

#ModSloot #FrancLee #LongLiveFrancLee #ASAP

I admit it, I’m obsessed with this motif #FrancLee #logo...

Mon, 25 Feb 2013 01:30:31 -0500

I admit it, I’m obsessed with this motif #FrancLee #logo #ModSloot #MadameBovary #literature #FrenchMe #SelfMotif

My kid sister’s Daoist meditation of the day...

Sun, 24 Feb 2013 22:00:13 -0500

My kid sister’s Daoist meditation of the day @clare_the_unicorn #enlightened #longliveClareLee #FrancLee #ASAP